


The Breakup

by dark_pookha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7182170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_pookha/pseuds/dark_pookha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxie has had enough of my Bohemian lifestyle and the inevitable argument has finally come.</p>
<p>Written for round 2 of Tidal Dragon's Knock-out challenge, and inspired by the song 'Take Me or Leave Me' from Rent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Breakup

“It’s all just a fucking joke to you isn’t it?” Roxie poked her finger near my face.

 

“Well, maybe not a fucking joke, more like a dry-humping or heavy petting joke.” I couldn’t help myself, it just came out.

She sat next to me on the couch. “You’re more like my Dad than either of your own parents, aren’t you? Always just looking for the next good time. Was that all I was to you, just another good time?”

I put my hand on her knee and squeezed. “You knew what I was like when we first started dating, what the Hell’s the matter now?”

She sighed, then stood up and paced as she talked.

“Look, it’s not the staying out all night that’s the problem, it’s the lying. You tell me you’re working late at the office, but when I come to bring you a snack, you’re not there. Then when you do come home in the morning, and sneak into bed, you think you don’t wake me up, but you do. I can smell the Firewhiskey and perfume. I didn’t want the fight, but now it’s gone on too long.”

“Again, it’s the lying to me about it that’s really bugging me.” She stopped pacing and ran her hand over a photo of us taken when we were in Majorca. “I know we agreed that we wouldn’t be exclusive, but I’ve never been with anyone else since we’ve been together. I know you have, and I thought I could handle it, but I don’t think I can anymore.”

“Look, Roxie, go out and have a bit of fun yourself; pick up a guy at a pub, or a girl, you know I don’t care.” I was going to say more but she interrupted me.

“You don’t fucking care, and that’s part of it, too. You really wouldn’t mind if I shagged half the men in Britain, as long as I came home to you, right?”

I nodded.

“I used to think that I could do that, too, but it’s eaten away at me. I don’t feel like we’re a couple any more, we’re just people who live together and sometimes have sex.” Tears started flowing on her face.

I stood and put my arms around her. “Look, Roxie, I do love you, and you’re also my friend, but I can’t change who I am. I’m always going take my love where I can find it.”

She pushed me away. “But you’re not taking love, you’re just taking sex. A series of one-night stands isn’t love.”

“Look, Roxie, just let yourself go, and enjoy yourself, you’ll like it.” I opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Rigand’s Rye and some seltzer. Her wand just appeared in her hand and the bottle of rye flew from my hand and crashed into the wall. The sharp smell of alcohol filled the room.

“What a damn waste. Do you know how hard it is to get good Muggle rye whiskey?” I pulled my wand and cleaned the wet spot on the wall and carpet.

“I don’t care how hard it is to get your damn escapist medicine. You need to face life without being drunk all the time. I don’t know how you haven’t been fired yet.” She flicked her wand and the cabinet shut with a bang.

“I haven’t been fired yet, because my dear brother knows I need the job and Dad probably told him to keep me on the payroll.”

“I—I just can’t live like this anymore. I’m going to move back in with my parents.” She shoved off to the bedroom and I could hear her rattling around her closet. I re-opened the liquor cabinet and pulled the Firewhiskey bottle. I took a good long swig directly from the bottle, then another, then another. The burning filled me and lifted me. I went to the old record player in the corner and put on Puccini.

I strode to the bedroom door and watched her bustle from the closet to her magicked suitcase. She was stuffing all her clothes in it. With her back to me, she hadn’t noticed me watching yet. I admired her lithe body and her dark skin as she moved. I quickly came up and embraced her from behind, my hands slipping over her breasts as she always liked it.

“Get off me!” She pushed her hands through my arms, breaking my grasp, then stepped quickly to the side to avoid me.

“You used to like that.”

“I did used to like that, but now I wonder how many other women liked it too.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve been in here less than five minutes and you already smell like a distillery.”

She sat on the bed. “Shit, this is taking too long, and it’s too fucking hard to keep doing this while you’re here.” She pulled her wand again. “Accio clothes.” Her clothes came flying out of the closet and toward her, but she deftly directed them into her suitcase.

I tried to grab her wrist, but she yanked away again, zipped up her suitcase, and grabbed it.

“You keep living this—this—this Bohemian lifestyle, and it will eventually kill you. I’ll mourn you, but I can’t be a part of it anymore.” She leaned in and kissed me quickly, but pulled back before I could grab her.

Then, she turned and Disapparated.

Strands of Puccini’s music drifted in from the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N I deliberately left off who the narrator was so you could make up your own mind. I have my own idea, but it may not match yours. Careful readers may notice some other call-outs to the musical Rent.


End file.
